


Lucky

by saddestboner



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Not!Fic, bros being bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 20:05:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13795290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saddestboner/pseuds/saddestboner
Summary: They're close enough to the Series that Anthony can practically taste it—or whatever it is the World Series tastes like, anyways.





	Lucky

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't getting finished so up it goes in all its unfinished glory.

They're close enough to the Series that Anthony can practically taste it—or whatever it is the World Series tastes like, anyways. 

When Anthony tells Kris this, he just tosses his head back and laughs at him because Kris is kind of an asshole like that (but it’s okay, because Anthony likes him just the way he is).

“What’s so fuckin’ funny?” Anthony pretends to be pissed Kris is laughing at him, but he knows Kris knows he doesn’t really mind. Anthony supposes the big smile he’s currently sporting is probably undermining whatever half-assed point he’d try to make anyways.

Kris makes a show of wiping at the corner of his eye. He exhales, a long, breathy _whoosh_. “You’re such a weirdo, Rizz,” he says, still chuckling as he turns back to his locker to finish stripping out of his uniform.

“Takes one to know one,” Anthony says, grinning as he turns back to his own locker.

A thermal sock hits Anthony in the face and he knocks it aside.

“I am not a weirdo. I am the opposite of weird. You, on the other hand…” Kris shuffles over to Anthony’s side to retrieve his missing sock, but Anthony kicks it under his locker. Kris just heaves a belabored sigh, as if this just goes to prove his point. 

“Guess I’m lucky you put up with me then.” Anthony grins.

“I actually hate you.” Kris drops to his haunches and reaches under Anthony’s locker for his sock.

“No you don’t.” Anthony ruffles Kris’s hair, or what’s left of it after whatever blind barber Kris went to hacked it into a faux hawk.

Kris knocks Anthony’s hand away and gets up, sock clutched triumphantly in hand. “Leave my hair alone. Just ’cause you can’t pull this look off doesn’t mean—”

“Fuck you, I totally can.” Anthony scoffs.

**Author's Note:**

> The author of this piece intends no insult, slander, or copyright infringement, and is not profiting from this work. This story is a complete work of fiction and does not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. This is for entertainment purposes only. If you found this story while Googling your name or the names of your friends, hit the back button now.


End file.
